The Little Things
by adventurer-extraordinaire
Summary: It's a family reunion at the Holmes house. But something is wrong. Avery Holmes is not herself. As with any good Sherlock fic, blood is at least almost spilled. Is Avery the culprit or is it someone more unexpected? It's brother against sister, and twin against twin as the family turns upside down to find the attempted murderer.
1. Chapter 1

It started with missing spoons. Sherlock even did an experiment to see if they were really disappearing and sure enough, they were. Whoever or whatever was stealing cutlery soon moved to moving things about the flat. Mostly the skull, which had so kindly been named 'Hamish.' Not by Sherlock, the thing moving things about had printed it on a piece of paper and taped it to the skulls forehead. Despite spending hours in his mind palace, sifting through names and faces, Sherlock could not figure out who it was. And he was really getting irritated with finding thumbs on his laptop.

After the while, whoever it was started leaving notes.

'Hi!' was posted on a full turkey that appeared in one of his desk drawers. The turkey proved useful for his experiment.

'Have you figured it out yet?' was on the outside of his window, the one he couldn't open. It stayed there until the rain took it away.

'This used to be your favorite game,' was in his sugar jar, shortly after the last one dissolved.

This note plus about an hour brought him to a conclusion of who it was. His eyes flew open and he turned, scanning the flat for where she could be hiding.

He landed on a never used cupboard, barely half the size of a human. Opening the door revealed a tangle of legs and arm.

"Avery," Sherlock cried happily.

"Ello William," cried the girl who came tumbling out of the cupboard. When she straighted up she was only about half his size, but similarly built. Her dark brown hair had been shaved close to her head, and her grey green eyes shined as she jumped to wrap her arms around her cousins neck.

Despite her pleasant manners, Sherlock could tell something was off. First: she was wearing sleeves, and trousers. Avery had always hated anything touching her skin, when they were kids it had been rare to see her wearing clothes at all if she didn't have to. Also, she kept looking around, when she pulled away, she didn't look him in the eye. He ignored this, he hadn't seen her in awhile and she would slap him if he deduced her.

"Nobody calls me William any more," Sherlock said instead, "Most people don't even know its my name."

"No hair, don't care," Avery chimed.

"That doesn't make any sense," Sherlock told her.

"It's not supposed to," Avery laughed.

"What are you doing here?" Sherlock asked.

"Extending a personal invitation to the family reunion," Avery said, "It's for Auntie and Uncle Holmes's anniversary. I think Mum is organizing it, but I honestly have no idea."

"Count me out," Sherlock said immediately, "I have much better things to do with my life, rather than attempt small talks with cousins I barely know."

"Too bad, so sad," Avery chimed, "Emory already contacted that Lestrade fellow, and your dear Dr. Watson to tell them you were going. Remember how persuasive she could be? Always had you right under her thumb."

"Only when she had you as her muscle," Sherlock reminded, "And are you threatening me?"

"I'm always threatening you Will," Avery shot, "Mycroft should be here to pick you up soon."

"Do I have any choice?" Sherlock asked.

"I could shoot you so you go without a struggle," Avery suggested.

"Sounds good," Sherlock said.

"Wrestle over it?" Avery asked.

"Always," Sherlock said with a smirk.

Avery pulled a box out of his pocket. She set it to the side, then tackled him. Where Sherlock's advantage was his size, Avery's was pure skill. No matter where he kicked or grabbed there was only thin air. The fight lasted only seconds, ending when Avery wrapped her legs around his throat and flipped him so he landed hard on his back. Avery pulled the needle out of its box.

"I win as usual," she joked, "This should feel funny. I think it's the same stuff Ms. Adler used on you." Sherlock felt the needle in the side of his neck. The last words he heard from Avery were muddled, yet somewhat clear, "I actually know her, and she knows what I like." And the doorbell rang.

Avery's near non-existent weight disappeared as she moved to answer the door.


	2. Chapter 2

Of all the things John expected to find when he went to visit Sherlock, a girl who was slightly shorter than himself and Sherlock passed out in the kitchen were definitely not on that list. The girl opened the door without looking at him and instantly started talking.

"Alright Mycroft, he's in the kitchen. Wouldn't cooperate though so I had to knock him..." she looked up noticing it was John for the first time, "...out." She rolled her eyes, "Who the hell are you?" she demanded, "And you'd better take your hand off that gun."

John moved his hand away from the gun and looked at the girl. Oddly enough, she looked like a tiny version of Sherlock, except her hair was shaved off. "Captain John Watson," he said.

"Oh," the girls face split into a wide grin and she relaxed, "Your the famous Doctor. I'm Avery Holmes, Sherlock's cousin." She reached out to shake his hand. "Wasn't Emory supposed to contact you?"

He didn't take her hand. A girl had contacted him, but he had thought it to be some elaborate trap and decided to come check it out himself. He glanced to where Sherlock lay sprawled across the floor of the kitchen.

"Oh, that," Avery said. She let her hand fall back to her side. "You know how hard it is to deal with him. It's much easier when he can't fight back."

"What's going on?" John growled. He was worried about Sherlock and really tempted to shoot the girl in front of him.

"Family reunion," she said, as Mycroft appeared in the doorway.

"Dr. Watson," he said coolly, "If you relax, Avery will only hurt you if you attempt to hurt her. I say attempt because she can dodge bullets. So if you take your hand off your gun."

"He doesn't believe me Myc," Avery cried, "Thinks I'm actually trying to hurt Sherlock. He's only knocked out, should come around in about two or three hours."

"Then we should get him to the car," Mycroft said.

Avery nodded in agreement. "Is Emory about?" She asked.

As if on cue, a girl who looked just like Avery except with her dark hair pulled into a professional looking bun appeared next to Mycroft. "Are we almost ready to go?" she demanded, "The car is painfully boring." Her eyes fell on John. "Afghanistan or Iraq?" She asked.

John was about to ask what she meant when he felt something prick his neck. A cold dizzy feeling washed over him. He could barely hear the muddled yelling of Avery and Emory. He turned to Mycroft who was checking his watch, then his knees buckled and he collapsed, the world going black before he hit the ground.

"What the hell Ave?" Emory screamed, "Why'd you knock him out?"

"We're already late," Avery pointed out, "He was just slowing us down."

"What do you expect us to do with him?" Emory demanded.

"Take him along," Avery suggested with a quick shrug, "He'll wake up before Sherlock, we can just explain then."

"He's a soldier," Emory cried, "With possible PTSD from hanging around Sherlock too much and an adrenaline addiction. He'll wake up and freak out."

"I have PTSD," Avery reminded her twin, "You should remind yourself what it looks like." With that, she grabbed John's arm and hoisted him over her shoulder. The sleeve of her shirt pulled back to reveal a jagged scar the one could tell traveled to the bone.


	3. Chapter 3

John woke up when Avery screamed. She had fallen asleep on the seat next to him but shot up suddenly, the cry tearing from her lips. He knew the cry better than any, it was one had heard from himself when he'd first come back to London.

"Avery?" he asked, her sudden turn of character more of a concern then the fact that he had been drugged and stuffed in one of Mycroft's cars.

"Who are you?!" she screamed, pressing into the corner, folding herself impossibly smaller, "Where the hell am I?"

"Avery, calm down," John murmured, "I'm Dr. John Watson, we met at 221b."

Avery gulped in deep breaths. She looked around, finally realizing that she was in no danger. "Sorry about that," she breathed, her eyes darting about, still searching for a nonexistent enemy.

"It's okay," John said using his comforting doctor voice, "I've been through it myself."

"But you had someone to help it go away," Avery said, "Emory tries her best, but sometimes her best just isn't good enough." She frowned and John wondered what sort of memories the girl could possibly be reliving. "Anyways, I doubt Sherlock has told you anything about our family."

"I didn't even know he had a controlling brother until Mycroft introduced himself," John admitted.

"Alrighty," she said, "I'll give you names and basic personalities, but that's about the best I can do to prepare you for the Holmes and Cumberbatch clans."

"Prepare?" John asked, "Are they all like the ones I've met so far? Wait, why do I need to know about your family?"

"We're going to a family reunion," Avery said as though it was the most obvious thing ever, "And basically. Except Joss, but his wife and kids are really nice."

"Alrighty then," John said, "But before we start, I have two questions. One: Do my wife and daughter know where I am? And two: Why did you drug me?"

"Emory took care of Mary and Jeanette," Avery said, "Even offered to let them come along, but Mary just laughed and said she has to deal with enough Holmes boys already. As for the drugging, we were running late and you were taking up too much time deciding whether to trust us or not."

John nodded. Avery made an odd sort of sense, and seemed to have some pretty screwed up morals. But she did what she thought was right though.

"Now for the family," Avery cried clapping her hands together, "Emory and I are obviously twins. We are the children of Sherlock's dads brother, Arthur. We have two brothers as well, Jason and Joss, who are fraternal twins rather than identical. You with me so far?"

John thought for a moment, before deciding 'screw it' and nodding.

"You've already met Emory, she's the smart one, I'm the muscle. Joss is an idiot, but his wife, Sawyer, is a neurosurgeon, they have three kids. Jason is Sherlock except nicer and gayer. I know it's hard, but trust me, he is married to a man named Kendall and they have two kids," Avery sat back and took a deep breath, having said all that in just one.

"Quite the family you've got," John said.

"Don't forget the other side," Avery reminded him, "Over there is Damon and Georgia. They have the cousins: Tianna, Elva, Victor, and Bryn. Tianna is married to Dayton, they have four kids. Elva is married to Annabelle and I don't know anything about Victor or Bryn, just that they are very odd."

"Isn't the whole family odd?" John asked.

"Only if you're not Joss," Avery laughed, "he's so normal that he's considered weird."

As they chatted, John found Avery to be a funny seemingly open character. She had worked for Mycroft, Emory, and even Moriarty when she and her sister had a falling out. When he inquired further than the surface though, she shut down, her sun warmed features growing stone cold. He found that she spent a lot of time with Sherlock as a kid, but hadn't spoken to him in years and wanted to get to know him again. She had also spent time in Australia, France, Spain, Brazil, Jamaica, Egypt, America, Nicaragua, and lived in Cardiff. Yet she never actually said a thing about what her job was. It was closed off, not something for everyday people to see. When John asked about it she just said, "Not even Sherlock could deduce what I do for a living," and refused to say anything else.

Sooner than John was expecting, the car pulled up to Sherlock's parents house. Sherlock was already there, arguing with Mycroft and refusing to get out of the car. "You ready to meet the family?" Avery asked. Before John could answer she was already halfway across the yard with Emory at her side. John simply smiled and went to help Mycroft.


End file.
